


Lessons

by Sp00py



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Attempted Fluff, Ember Island (Avatar), Failed Fluff, Gen, Non-Consensual Tickling, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26400634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sp00py/pseuds/Sp00py
Summary: A short fic about Zuko being tickled.
Relationships: The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 192





	Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> got motivated to finish this thanks to a conversation on a discord server so yay i actually finished smth. ty, you guys

Zuko was still learning things most people had a grasp on by ten. He was sixteen. He’d always been a little late to the party.

These things included:

  * Hugging; everyone hugged a little differently, from soft and comforting (Katara) to crushing (Toph and Aang) to casual-it’s-no-biggie-sometimes-bros-hugged (Sokka).
  * Jokes; not every bit of sarcasm or jab was at his expense, was meant to cut nor demanded angry counters like it’s a fight not a conversation.
  * Gratitude; tiny things like ‘thanks for starting the fire’ or ‘ thanks for having my back when we got ambushed’ still make Zuko stutter and blush almost as bad as
  * Praise; Aang is the worst offender here, though it was somehow worse (or better?) coming from Katara, Sokka, or Suki, because Zuko felt he had really earned it then.



The others were patient, though, as though he was  _ allowed _ to not know these things. As though he weren’t an idiot, or evil, or unloving and unlovable. He was starting to think Sokka was on to something when he said Zuko didn’t have a very high opinion of himself. Which was absurd, because he was the prince (banished traitor) of the Fire Nation. His opinion of himself should be higher than his opinion of anyone else.

Toph flopped down next to him on the stairs. The oceans of the Fire Nation sparkled all the way to the horizon, warmed by the setting sun.

“You’re thinking so loud I can practically hear your scowl, Sparky,” she said.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for everything,” Toph continued, blank eyes tilted toward the warmth of the sun. “Just relax. Try to laugh once in a while.”

“I don’t relax, and I don’t laugh,” Zuko said flatly. “My fath-- Ozai is out there, and we’re just -- what, vacationing?” He gestured broadly to the beach and the trees and the world at large, not that Toph could appreciate the drama of his flourish.

“It  _ is  _ a vacation house.”

Zuko made a wordless noise of outrage, which earned a laugh from Toph. At least someone was having a good time, even if it was at his expense.

They fell into a companionable silence, enjoying the warmth of the setting sun while Zuko tried not to think of the future. He was doing a very bad job of it. There were really only two routes, at this point, and both loomed so large, so overwhelming, he didn’t know how he wasn’t suffocating under the weight of death or ruling -- losing or winning a centuries old war.

Toph snorted, and Zuko realized he was probably doing something to indicate he was overthinking again. He shifted his legs and took a deep breath. There wasn’t any candle, but he could still mediate. Still try to get his thoughts into order.

“Are you meditating?” Aang asked, immediately breaking any calm Zuko had found. His heart jumped, but Zuko managed to hide his surprise at the airbender’s absurdly light steps. Momo was chirruping gently around Aang’s shoulders.

Zuko opened his good eye, glared at Aang, then closed it again very pointedly. He heard Aang settle on his opposite side, probably assuming his own meditative stance. Toph, Zuko was pretty sure, had fallen asleep.

Finally, calm. Don’t think. Deep breaths. Don’t think. Imagine flames, feel the sun.  _ Don’t think. _

Something tickled under his chin, then Momo was in his lap, circling. His ears kept brushing Zuko’s chin. Zuko swallowed, tried to feel the sun and not the fur on his skin. A chuckle disguised as an awkward cough slipped out of his mouth. Momo froze, but, as Zuko reigned in his response, soon got comfortable enough to begin his circling again.

Zuko sank his teeth into his lower lip, clearing his throat. Momo had already adjusted to his fidgeting and noise-making, so didn’t even hesitate this time.  _ Please, just lay down. Lay down, lay down -- _

A laugh escaped. Everything stilled, far past what meditation and sleep would call for. Oh no. No.

Zuko’s eyes snapped open as Aang was suddenly and very unwantedly practically on Zuko’s back.

He had the biggest grin Zuko had ever seen on him, and Zuko leaned away, only to bump into Toph, who was now sitting up too. Her grin looked far more devious. Momo…. Looked like Momo. He tilted his head and flicked his tail in intrigue at this new situation.

“What… what is it?” Zuko asked warily.

Aang closed what little distance Zuko had been able to put between them. “Are you ticklish?”

“N-no -- no! I am not!”

“ _ Lie _ ,” Toph crowed from his other side.

“Don’t -- don’t -- “ Zuko’s protests stuttered to a stop as Aang knocked into him, fingers tickling under Zuko’s chin, airbending (which was such a level of  _ cheating  _ that Aang could never take a moral high ground again _ )  _ teasing at his inner arms and sides underneath the loose fabric of his top. Momo abandoned ship to go sit a yard or so away as Zuko tried and failed to reign in his impulses or shove Aang off.

He’d been in so many fights at this point in his life that it should have been easy to push a twelve year old boy, but his breath came in stuttering, huffing laughter, and he was afraid of accidentally hurting Aang. Which was absurd, because Zuko had never managed to hurt him when he was  _ trying. _

“A-aang -- Stop -- STOP--” Zuko cried, trying to crawl away and stifle the laughter choking out his voice. Aang, with a grin like a cat that had caught its prey, followed along. Suddenly, Zuko found himself backed against a wall that hadn’t been there before.

“TOPH!” he definitely did not shriek.

“Relax, Sparky,” she called from beyond Aang, letting him handle all the dirty work. “Have some fun for once.”

“How… How am --” It was getting hard to breathe through the laughter, much less speak. Zuko swatted at Aang. His chest hurt from the struggle to keep air  _ in  _ and to protect his most sensitive parts, which unfortunately were all of him. Zuko writhed, pressing himself against the stone, and it was such a sudden shift from play to panic, but nothing had actually changed except that Aang was still tickling him and Toph had boxed him in and --

“St--st--” he couldn’t even form words, and the smile that had been forced to his face felt more like a grimace as his body convulsed. Laughter, if it could be called that by now, overwhelmed every attempt to end this torture, which only made him more frantic. Calm, calm, be calm.  _ You’re just making it worse _ , he mentally screamed at himself. Zuko knew he was. He knew, logically, this was just fun. He shouldn’t be imagining himself suffocating. Zuko doubted he even could, actually, die from this. It just felt like it, and he  _ couldn’t tell Aang to stop. _

Zuko’s skin crawled wherever he felt the ghost of Aang’s airbending or his fingers, and he wanted it to stop, but every movement and breath said otherwise. That was the worst -- he felt so out of control of his own body. No voice, no strength, no breath. Held down and burning and  _ laughingscreaming _ \--

He kicked Aang, heel glancing off his shoulder. Fire, barely hot enough to register as heat and thrown wide, wild, flared with the desperate movement. But it was enough. Aang bounced back with a startled yelp. Zuko scrambled up to his feet, palm quickly wiping at the sting of tears in his good eye before they’d dare fall. He forced air into his lungs, held it, released with stuttering breath. Again.

“Woah, Sparky,” Toph said, hands up, circling wide like he was some kind of cornered animal. One that spit fire. “You okay?”

Zuko’s gaze locked on Aang, who looked confused and hurt, but only emotionally. His clothes weren’t even singed. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Zuko blurted out an apology and turned and walked -- almost running, but he forced himself to just walk very, very quickly. He was in control.  _ He _ said what his body did -- away before he had to explain himself.

* * *

Idiot. Over-reactive. Zuko glared at his hands, which he kept curling and uncurling and letting fire pool in before snuffing it. He had stopped walking some distance into the trees that surrounded the vacation house. Not so far as to be found by others, but far enough to give him some privacy to be a moron all by himself.

Zuko knew what tickling was. He even had memories of it that didn’t somehow (stupidly) overlap with getting half his face burned off or make him terrified of dying. It was supposed to be fun. Exactly the sort of fun Aang loved -- harmless, silly, childish.

And Zuko had kicked fire at his face for it.

His hands twisted in his hair as he knocked his head against a tree. Zuko couldn’t scream at himself this time, but he wanted to. He’d been doing well, but this felt like not a step back, but a leap off a cliff back. Back to the awkwardness, back to standing just outside of the circle, looking in, back to hurting people he cared about.

He punched the ground in a plume of flame. It didn’t deserve it either, but Zuko felt better as scorch marks smoked. Fire was so much more than anger, but he  _ knew _ anger. Anger was safe, even if it was at himself. It was better to just burn up out here instead of figure out how to navigate apologizing properly, or explaining without excusing what he did.

“Zuko?” Aang’s voice crept out from the dark shadows of the trees. Zuko froze. He wasn’t ready, he hadn’t even  _ practiced _ what he could say --

When Aang apparently deemed it safe enough to show himself, Zuko immediately kowtowed. “I’m so sorry, Aang. I shouldn’t have done that, it could have seriously hurt you. You didn’t deserve it, I know I have trouble with control, still. Not that, not that that excuses what I did!” He was rambling. Zuko knew he was, but couldn’t stop himself. That hadn’t been a fight, or training, or anything. It had been fun, and Zuko messed up with that, too.

“Zuko, hey, Zuko!” Aang put his hands on Zuko’s shoulders, and Zuko realized he’d knelt in front of him at some point. Zuko glanced up. “It’s okay. I mean -- I actually owe  _ you _ an apology.”

“What.”

Aang pushed Zuko until he was sitting on his knees, and settled in front of him. Zuko tried not to glare suspiciously, but he  _ was _ suspicious and glaring was always a safe option.

Aang curled his back until his forehead touched the forest floor. “Sifu Hotman, I apologize for my earlier actions.”

This was weird. He wasn’t sure what to do. “You didn’t do anything wrong?” Zuko tried.

“But I did!” Aang straightened back up. “You told me to stop, and I didn’t.”

“It was just tickling.”

“That you didn’t want.”

Zuko stared at Aang. Aang stared at Zuko. Then, after some internal process Zuko would likely never understand, Aang began talking again. “If you tell someone to stop, it doesn’t matter if it was just for fun or just a joke, they should stop.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay to not like something that other people like.”

“Oh.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Zuko said, and they didn’t need Toph there to tell Aang he was lying. “But I kicked you. With fire.”

“In that specific case, I deserved that. You were scared. And I know you didn’t want to hurt me, because you didn’t. I’d probably be getting a broken collar bone healed by Katara right now if you did,” he said with a laugh, like possible grievous injuries were just something to shrug off.

“I guess…” Zuko allowed, but that was enough for Aang, who bounced immediately to his feet. He held his hand out to Zuko, who, after only a slight hesitation, took it.

They returned to the warmth of the house, the others gathered around sharing dinner. Katara handed Zuko a bowl of rice topped with fish as Aang bounced off to his own vegetarian dish.

“How are you doing?” she asked quietly. Because of course Aang probably ran right to Katara for help. He had seemed oddly put-together with his apology, in retrospect.

“Fine,” and this time it wasn’t a lie. Zuko was confused, but it wasn’t a bad thing, and he could keep that to himself. “Sorry to make you worry.”

Katara looked like she wanted to say something about the apology, but just smiled instead, and stepped aside so he could sit down.

Toph plopped down next to him, knocking their shoulders together. “Sorry, Sparky,” she said, more to her food than to him. He bumped her back, and that was that. Zuko would have to add ‘being apologized to’ to his list of things he’s still learning, but this seemed a promising start.

The night continued on like nothing had happened, and Zuko finally let himself relax. Just for tonight, at least.


End file.
